


Carlton Cracks Open

by meaghann



Category: Psych
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 15:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11187663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaghann/pseuds/meaghann
Summary: Head Detective Carlton Lassiter discovers that showing weakness leads to unexpected friendship.





	Carlton Cracks Open

It was the end of a long, very hot day and Detective Carlton Lassiter's temper was fraying. The suspect in a string of violent robberies was supposedly in the neighbourhood, and Carlton was doing one last pass, walking through the back alleys and looking at garages and doorways, trying to spot him. Randall Mercado had been in prison before and he was dangerous, putting two of the store owners he robbed into hospital with serious injuries, but Lassiter wanted to nail him badly. Badly enough that he had stopped off to do this sweep between their last crime scene and meeting O'Hara back at the station. Dusk was coming on and it started getting harder to see. Just as he thought it wise to give up and go back to the station, a piece of plywood swung at his head. He ducked and spun round but Mercado nailed him with a fist to the side of his head and a hit with the plywood. Stumbling, Carlton really wished he had waited for backup before doing this. The area around them was quiet and away from street view. Mostly closed-up back entrances to businesses and a long brick wall of a warehouse. Somehow Mercado had manoeuvred him into the dead end of the loading dock. He had to find a way out. He tried to go for his gun, but he kept having to block the hits coming at him. Mercado lashed out again, kicking out faster than Lassiter could block and got a hard hit into the side of his knee. Lassiter went down groaning in agony and Mercado really went crazy, kicking him hard and fast.  His arms were up around his head for protection but Mercado kicked hard and he felt at least one finger break under the impact and his vision was going gray around the edges. Somehow it all swam together and he lost consciousness.

It was a sound that woke him up, a high pitched barking from nearby. Somebody's dog left outside. Carlton opened his eyes, but his vision was all wrong, blurry. He lifted his hand and wiped at his eyes and came away with blood. He had a head wound, that was certain, and he felt around till his hand edged over a lump that caused a bolt of pain to lance right through him. His other hand was broken, and his knee was agonizing. He had to get up though. A cop alone in this neighbourhood was a bad situation, as wounded as he was. Leaning on his good hand, he managed to get to his knees, favouring the uninjured one, but the pain of sitting up was too much and he leaned over to retch helplessly. A metal handle was in the wall near him and he used that to lever himself standing. He would never get to his car without help.  Trying to think past the pain, he realized that the closest person he could call was Spencer. This day was just getting worse and worse, he thought. 

" You have reached Shawn the Magnificent, how can I make your life more awesome?"

"Spencer" he choked out and that was enough to make him dizzy and his head pound. " I need you to come and get me. Back of Marty's wholesale. "

"Lassie what happened? You sound awful man. Want a bus called?" 

"No just come alone please."

"I'm already going. 10 minutes out.  Tell me what happened. Keep talking" said Shawn as he drove. 

"Chasing a perp down an alley. Got the jump on me. Can't talk Spencer, too much."

"Jesus Lass I'm coming fast. But you better have a good reason for no ambulance. "

There was no more talking from Lassiter, but the line stayed open as Shawn raced to him.  Turning into the back alley he spotted Lassiter leaning heavily at the entrance to a loading dock. He killed the engine on his bike and ran over to the detective. Lassiter was covered in blood, his clothes were torn and he was holding his left arm carefully. 

"Lassie, man, give me the list."

"Spencer. Broken ribs, likely concussion, there's blood anyway, uhh, broken fingers on the left hand, the rest is probably just bruises, but I can't tell.We need to get out of here. He could come back with friends."

"Okay, can you sit sidesaddle on the bike? I'll get you to your car."

They managed between them to get Carlton on the back of the bike and Shawn didn't bother getting on. He just gently pushed the bike back towards the street and to where he'd spotted Lassiter's car. 

"So hospital?" asked Shawn.

"If you take me, I'll go as a civilian, no badge, just a fight report. If I go as a cop, then Mercado knows he got to me, the department gets involved, it's paperwork and it might look like I started it."

"Ok then, Iet's get you in the back of the car." 

Shawn tried to be gentle with Lassiter, but in the end, the detective was sweating and panting, whimpering with pain, but trying to hide it anyway. He was lying in the back seat and Shan carefully extracted the car keys. He touched Carlton’s forehead lightly.

“You’re in good hands Lassie, don’t worry.”

The emergency room doctor looked to be about 12 thought Carlton bitterly, but he submitted to the examination with minimal grumbling. Doctor Fanir administered a local and stitched up Carlton’s head, then quickly splinted and wrapped his fingers, and wrapped his ribs and cleaned off some off the blood. Shawn sat in the chair seemingly absorbed in his phone, but as soon as the doctor had issued the words “someone to watch you for the night” and signed the release forms, he was up and ready to help.

“Mister Spencer, Carlton will probably be very groggy with his pain medication, but other than that, he should be fine. Don’t let him sleep too long without checking to see if he’s responsive, but it’s all here in the paperwork. Goodnight gentlemen.”

An orderly came with a wheelchair and Carlton gave it a long suffering sigh, but got in. He was clearly exhausted and not up for arguing. Once he was buckled in and they were driving, Shawn voiced what had been nagging at him.

“What are you going to say to work? You can’t go in tomorrow and they will want to know why?”

“I’ll take some sick time, say I got the flu, that should give me enough time to recover.”

Shawn nodded and Carlton leaned back and closed his eyes, letting himself doze as best he could, but the pain was too big a distraction. There was a brief stop while Shawn picked up Carlton’s prescriptions that the hospital had phoned over. The pharmacy was part of a bigger store, so Shawn grabbed some groceries while he was waiting and then at the till he saw something that made him smile added it to his purchases. He had never wanted to be nice to Lassie before, he thought, and wondered if it was just seeing the detective in such a terrible state.

When they finally arrived, Carlton was half-awake and in enough pain that Shawn had to almost drag him into the elevator, but they made it with Carlton panting against the wall on the way up. The journey done the hall took forever with the pair having to stop frequently, but eventually they were in Carlton’s apartment and Shawn maneuvered the older man to his bedroom and sat him down on the the bed. Shawn kneeled to undo Carlton’s laces and slip his shoes and socks off and he stopped, hand on Lassiter’s foot, with a wave of strange breathlessness and he shook his head to focus and stood up.

Carlton was struggling to remove his shirt and Shawn leaned in to catch his eye.

“You trusted me enough to call me. Let me get you out of your clothes and into bed.”

“Spencer this is inappropriate and I can do it” said Carlton with frustrated growl, batting away Shawn’s hands.

“Ok then, go for it” and Shawn leaned back with his arms crossed, watching Carlton struggle to get his shirt off, until after the second grunt of pain, he relented.

“Lassie, come on, I don’t want to see you in pain. I’ll just do it quick and then you can sleep.”

“Fine, alright. Just get it over with.”

Carlton’s face was scowling with embarrassment and pain, but he didn’t resist. Shawn got Carlton’s shirt off without any fuss and between them his pants as well. Shawn piled up the pillows so Carlton could lean back and covered the detective with blankets. Carlton closed his eyes and sighed breathing heavily from all the shifting.

Shawn moved around the room gathering the discarded clothes, filling the water glass and making sure Carlton had everything he needed. He took one last look at the detective and then turned out the light. Then it was back down to the car to bring up the groceries and The Best of Cops dvd box set he’d found while shopping. He grabbed a beer from the fridge after putting the groceries away and went out to the balcony. He opened the beer and called Gus. The line rang and rang and Shawn almost hung up when the familiar voice answered.

“Shawn, where have you been? You’re missing the awesomeness that is The Muppet Movie.”

“Have you cried yet?”

“It’s a moving piece of cinema Shawn.”

“Personally I prefer the work of Pepe the shrimp.”

“Pepe is a king prawn Shawn, and he doesn’t appear in the movies until Muppets from Space” said Gus solemnly. “You could be watching that with me if you came over. You could have been watching The Muppet Movie with me if you had bothered to check your phone.”

Shawn quickly looked, and in fact there were calls from Gus and several txt messages.

“Sorry buddy, I’m caught up in something. Maybe next time.”

“Is it a case? Shawn are you going off into danger without me?” asked Gus.

“No it’s not a case, just spending some time with a” and Shawn paused, what was Lassie to him, a friend? Maybe, “friend”

“A friend Shawn? Don’t you mean date? Cause you don’t really hang out with anyone but me?”

“Well he’s kind of a new friend. Anyway, got to go Gus, pineapple to eat, places to be..”

Shawn stared at his cell phone. He hated lying to Gus about things like this, but he would never be able to keep this a secret. “I could have handled that better.”

Resolving to call Gus tomorrow and make it up to him, he settled back and finished his beer. There was another hour still before Shawn had to wake Carlton, so he wandered around the apartment poking into things. The living room/dining room space was a bit impersonal, but Shawn found an office beside the front door. It had been carved out of closet space, so it wasn’t very big, but there was a desk and chair and a bookcase crammed in. The desk was mostly just old case files, records of the Civil War reenactment group and bills, but the bookcase had some interesting finds. At the bottom almost hidden from view were some childhood books, old enough that they were almost certainly Lassie’s, thought Shawn.

He sat on the floor and pulled out the first one, The Yearling and flipped through. It looked sad and Shawn put it back. The next one looked well loved, with a blue cloth cover with worn edges. Treasure Island was the title on the cover and all Shawn could remember was an old film with a kid in it and a Muppet version. On the inside, there was writing; To my clever dreamer, love Grandpa.

“Huh” Shawn knew that Lassie had been a child, but it was different seeing him with a Grandpa. He would have loved to see a picture. More snooping would have to wait though while he checked on the adult. He went down the hall to the bedroom and turned on the small bedside lamp. He sat on the edge of the bed and took in the sight before him. Tidy, uptight Head Detective Carlton Lassiter was lying with his mouth open, covers scrunched down exposing his chest, which Shawn thought was rather more than nice and his fists were clenched which wasn’t relaxed. Then Shawn realized Carlton was muttering and tensing. A nightmare then, he thought. Shawn reached over and shook Carlton’s shoulder.

“Lassie wake up. It’s…” but he barely got the words out before he found himself flat on his back with hands squeezing his throat.

Carlton was back in the alley facing Mercado only this time he managed to get his hands around the dirtbag’s throat, before the thug killed him. He squeezed hard, and suddenly he was awake and looking down at Spencer who was gasping for air underneath him. Spencer’s face was deep red and the worst thing was the fear in his eyes.

“Lassie!” he gasped.

Carlton scrambled back and watched in horror as Spencer stumbled off the bed and ran into the bathroom. He heard the younger man retching, and his stomach twisted in disgust at himself. He was determined to help and tottered off the bed barely making it to the bathroom door He put a hand out to support himself and leaned his head close.

“Spencer are you alright? I’m so sorry. I thought you were Mercado. I was dreaming. You know I would never intentionally hurt you. Spencer? I’m opening the door.”

Carlton opened the door gingerly and looked in. Shawn was sitting against the wall eyes wide, rubbing his throat. Carlton tried to go to him, but he was so weak that he wobbled part way and slipped on the tile floor. Shawn caught him before he fell, grunting at the weight. 

“Lassie it’s okay, you just scared me, you need to get back in bed. “

Carlton lifted his hand and touched Shawn’s throat lightly. “I’m so sorry.”

Shawn got Carlton back into bed and sat with him, just being quiet.

“I was scared. It’s not like its never happened before, I mean, but this was different. The bastard got under my defences so fast. I couldn’t get my weapon out.” Carlton’s hands were shaking as he gripped the blanket, trying to hold himself together. Shawn could see unshed tears at the corners of the older man’s eyes and he knew how much Carlton must be losing it to be this vulnerable.

“Lass, I know hard this is for you, I do. I have an idea. Can you wait here just a minute? I have to get something.”

Carlton nodded weakly and Shawn ran down the hall and grabbed the copy of Treasure Island that was back in the office. He sat beside Carlton on the bed ignoring the splutter and raised eyebrow and began reading.

“Squire Trelawney, Doctor Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17—, and go back to the time when my father kept the "Admiral Benbow" Inn, and the brown old seaman, with the saber cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.”

Lassie didn’t look mad exactly, thought Shawn, but it was a strange look on his face.

“Spencer what are you doing?”

“Reading you a story. I picked one you loved and one I might like.” Shawn thought maybe this had been a bad idea, but it had distracted Carlton, so he decided to wait and see. “Henry never read me stories. He thought it was a waste of time.”

Carlton realized through his hurt that this was for Shawn as much as him and he actually found it comforting. He squeezed Shawn’s shoulder.

“It’s a good story, keep reading” said Carlton.

Shawn read further and Carlton settled back, his nightmare receding and before he fell back asleep, the stray thought that Spencer wasn’t so bad broke through. Shawn waited till Carlton was asleep for a few minutes before turning off the bedside lamp and going back to the living room. 

They got through the next few days without any further intimacies and Carlton hid his feelings back under his normal bluster. Shawn slept at home after the first night and did enough with Gus so that he wasn’t suspicious. Carlton went back to work with no one the wiser, but things felt incomplete. He could barely admit it to himself, but he had been comfortable with Spencer, trusted him and he wanted to do something for him. He had seen a funny look on Spencer’s face when he was holding the book, a yearning for comfort. He cursed Spencer Senior for being such an overbearing idiot to his son. He hated all the stories he was hearing about Spencer’s childhood.

Carlton’s opportunity came several weeks later. There had been a string of sexual assaults on women in the downtown and Carlton had worked hard to tie things up and catch the bastard. Everyone had worked hard, Shawn and Gus included and Carlton had sent them home earlier in the day looking wiped out. Juliet was off at a a training weekend. It was just after 1:00 AM and Carlton was finally done all the paperwork. He left it on the Chief’s desk and headed home. Something made him drive by Shawn’s apartment building and when he saw the light on he pulled over. It might be a terrible idea, but he grabbed a package off the back seat and went up.

Shawn was slumped on the couch when he heard a soft knock at the door. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he looked through the peephole, startled to see Lassiter standing there. He wrenched open the door, thinking that something must have gone wrong with the case.

“What’s happened? Has something gone wrong with, something?”

“No humorous greeting Spencer? You must be tired,” said Lassiter, smirking slightly. “Nothing’s wrong. I just had the feeling you might not be sleeping.” Carlton could read people as well as anyone and Shawn was exhausted, but trying to stay awake. His body was tensed and his eyes looked bruised.

“Hey it’s me. I’m full of good cheer remember? Now that I’m reassured that Gussie and the fair Juliet are safe and sound, I can amp up the humour.”

Carlton just raised an eyebrow and Shawn subsided.

“I want to return a favour” said Carlton and he moved into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards until he found a box of hot chocolate. He put the kettle on, while Shawn just leaned against the counter, finally really smiling. He spotted the paper bag and sidled nearer to it.

“Patience, Spencer”

When Shawn reached a hand out, Carlton smacked it aside, with no heat in the gesture.

“Do you trust me?” asked Carlton.

“Hey man, I might tease you over everything, but yeah, I always trust you.”

“Good, shut the house down and get ready for bed. I’ll bring the hot chocolate and the surprise.”

Shawn stood stunned for a moment, but then he beamed at the detective and scrambled to turn off the tv and the living room lights. Carlton brought two mugs of hot chocolate into the bedroom which was surprisingly tidy and comfortable looking. He put them on the bedside table and went back for his package. Shawn was in the bathroom and all the lights were out. He stopped, realizing how intimate this felt and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He had butterflies in his stomach, just like a teenager on a first date. But this was almost a second date, although to be fair, the first time he had been high on pain meds. Even he knew how ridiculous he was being. He was attracted to maddening, funny, genius, Shawn Spencer. Something clicked into place and he grabbed Treasure Island out of the bag. In the bedroom, Shawn was already in bed in a t-shirt and boxers, sipping his hot chocolate. He grinned up at Carlton.

“So what’s my present?”

Carlton showed him the copy of Treasure Island and Shawn’s face went through several expressions that Carlton could read. He seemed surprised, but really touched by the gesture, and there was something else, a needy flicker of something. Shawn reached for the book, but Carlton stopped him.

“Not yet. I would, I’d like to read it to you. So then you can say someone read to you. Maybe you’ll sleep better” Carlton added trying not to wince at how sentimental he sounded, but Shawn’s warm smile was wonderful to see. Carlton pulled the chair in the corner over and sat down ready to read, but Shawn shook his head.

“Nah-uh, for proper reading you have to be comfortable.” He slid over on the bed, making room for Carlton. Carlton sighed and gave in without much protest, toeing off his shoes and taking off his tie. The jacket had been left out in the hall. He settled himself down, shoving the pillows up so he could lean back, and opened the book to where they had stopped. 

Shawn sipped his hot chocolate and enjoyed the strangeness that was Head Detective Carlton Lassiter in his sock-feet, no tie, and sleeves rolled up, stretched out on his bed and reading a book out loud. His voice was warm and rich, enjoying the sounds of the words as he read. When the hot chocolate was done, Shawn put his cup on the floor and took a leap of faith. He leaned against Carlton’s warm side knowing he would likely be pushed away, but Carlton just lifted his arm and let Shawn slip underneath and curled the younger man into his side. Shawn sighed and closed his eyes, listening to the tale of pirates and poor Jim. He had the thread of a thought and wanted to say it before he slid fully into sleep, so he sat up and turned to face Carlton and lost his nerve seeing the detective’s face. It was peaceful and happy, if a bit tired looking around the edges, but he needed to say this, to tell Carlton how special he was. Carlton looked up at the movement waiting for Shawn to talk, placing his finger in the book as a marker.

“Lassie, this case was horrible. The poor women. All the pain they suffered, the fear and the injuries. I don’t know how they’ll cope. I helped solve it, but they deserve so much better. But you, you were amazing, you didn’t stop till you got the slime ball, and were so angry.” Shawn shivered, but kept going. “I’ve been flirting with you for ages, but I never took it seriously enough. All the cases were puzzles, something to keep me interested and making you mad was a bonus. But this, I respected you so much more after this and I’m so attracted to you. I don’t want to screw it up. I want to go slow, but if you really aren’t interested,”

“Spencer, I am sitting here with you because I want to be here. I don’t know what’s happened, but it’s more likely I would screw it up by being afraid and pushing you away. “Let’s have tonight with us both safe and happy?” Carlton held his arm out again and Shawn snuggled back into him and Carlton wrapped his arm around Shawn again. He leaned over and kissed Shawn on the head like it was normal, just affection, but Shawn felt it like a brand, heat shooting all the way down his body. Carlton carried on reading and the room was filled with Long John Silver’s charm and betrayal.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a fairy in this story?”

“Shut up Spencer.”

The End.


End file.
